


Holding Out For A Hero

by smittenbritain



Series: RT Writing Community Secret Santa [6]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24056449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smittenbritain/pseuds/smittenbritain
Summary: The Fakes are a band of superheroes that protect the streets of Los Santos. Gavin watches over the five of them from his office, using CCTV and tech that he can hack to his advantage. The rest of the crew has no idea that he actually has powers, and that's exactly how Gavin wants it.That is, until the Fakes get captured and he's the only one left with any firepower.
Relationships: Jeremy Dooley/Gavin Free
Series: RT Writing Community Secret Santa [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1441690
Comments: 10
Kudos: 100





	Holding Out For A Hero

**Author's Note:**

  * For [transvav](https://archiveofourown.org/users/transvav/gifts).



> This is written for the RT Writing Community Secret Springfairy 2020! 
> 
> My recipient was Vav; I hope you enjoy!

“Right then, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

Gavin flexed his fingers before resting them gently on the keyboard before him, poised to tap away at the keys. In front of him, along the wall, were several monitors, all filled with CCTV views of Los Santos; there, hidden in the pixellated shadows, were his team: the Fakes. Right now, his main monitor idled on a feed of Jeremy and Geoff - though he couldn’t spot Geoff right now, given that he was invisible. Jeremy, however, had pressed himself against a wall so he could peer around the corner warily.

 _Tap._ Gavin switched over to a second feed, where Michael, Jack, and Trevor all crouched, poised for action. Even through the screen, Gavin could see the flicker of fire in Michael’s palms.

A twitch of movement caught his eye. Gavin glanced up, then leaned forwards to press the button for his mic. “Jeremy, Geoff, you’ve got some heading your way. Two guys, both with guns.”

Jeremy winked at the security camera. Gavin grinned.

“You wrinkle your mask when you do that,” he teased. “You don’t look very heroic with it all bunched up by your cheeks.”

 _“Stop flirting on the job,”_ Geoff muttered. _“We can all hear you.”_

“Well, I’d tell you if _your_ mask was wrinkled, but I can’t see you, Geoff.”

Geoff began to grumble, but Jeremy shushed him. _“They’re coming.”_

The pair fell silent, listening and waiting, as the two guys rounded the corner. They were chatting casually enough, but each of their jackets bulged with the barely hidden shape of a rifle. Gavin didn’t know what they were up to and he didn’t particularly care - he was juggling two cases tonight, after all - but he knew that they were bad guys, and that the LSPD would be grateful to have them dropped off at their doorstep. 

One of the men tripped, and his gun came tumbling out of his grip, only for it to pause midair, as if it had been caught. 

Gavin grinned.

He couldn’t hear what they said as their mouths opened - the whole crew wore earpieces for that - but Gavin could see the confusion on their faces clearly enough. One reached for the gun, intending to scoop it away from whatever force was holding it, but before he could get close enough, it arced through the air like it had been thrown, rolling end over end, until it stopped again.

Jeremy had stepped out into the open. He had one hand outstretched to hold the gun in the air, where it rotated slowly. 

The unarmed man stumbled backwards a step in fear. The other was quicker and raised his gun, pointed it at Jeremy's chest-

And then he was knocked to the side, sending a spray of bullets against the building next to them. Jeremy sprung into the action, tossing the gun behind him into the shadows, leaping forwards to aid Geoff as he turned visible again and wrestled with the man-

 _Tap._ Gavin switched over to the other feed. He wasn’t worried about Jeremy and Geoff; he knew they could handle it.

Now he looked down on Jack, Trevor, and Michael, who were already engaged in a fight of their own. It looked like they had tracked down the gang they were after, and the battle had been decided long ago, though a few stragglers still tried to take back control. Most of the gang was already trapped by Jack, who had built up the ground around them to cage them in - it was something Gavin had seen him do before, and was as terrifying as it was cool. Michael kept herding the little crowd with bursts of fire from his palms, and his firm warning to the group rung in Gavin’s ears as the flames crackled in the background.

Trevor was hurt. There was a patch of blood on the left arm of his suit, staining the blue a darker colour, but it wasn’t serious; he walked up to join Michael just fine, where he ordered them to surrender their weapons. It wasn't surprising either, really. With his super strength came other bonuses like being a little tougher than the others, so if there was a bullet coming someone's way, it was safe to assume Trevor would probably try to dive in front of it and take the hit. He'd heal much faster anyway, and it wouldn't slow him down for long.

The crew was perfectly fine. Gavin sat back in his chair as he switched back to Jeremy and Geoff’s footage, watching over them carefully in case he needed to send backup. He doubted that he would.

The door behind him clicked open, and Gavin craned his neck to see who it was. Fiona wandered in, her gaze automatically darting up to the screen. “How’re things?”

“Alright. They should be done and heading to the station in a minute.”

“Nice.” Fiona grabbed the spare chair, and dragged it over to Gavin’s desk, where she promptly sat down - backwards, of course. “What about the suits? Michael hasn’t burned his, has he?”

“Nah.” Gavin clicked back over to the second feed to show her. They were indeed cleaning up now; he could see Trevor holding a burner phone up to his ear, so no doubt he was calling the cops. “Looks like it’s holding up alright. You’ll have to ask him when he gets back, though.”

Fiona just hummed. She folded her arms on the back of the chair, gazing thoughtfully up at the screens. “They need names,” she said suddenly. 

“Well, they’re the Fakes,” Gavin said. “Everyone knows them as that.”

“Yeah, but _individual_ names. That’s what the suits are missing.”

She did have a point, Gavin had to admit. They would look - and sound - a little better if they had actual superhero names.

“You could ask them to think of it when they get back, then,” Gavin suggested. “Dunno how good it’ll be.” He grinned. “I could name them if you like.”

Fiona burst out into giggles. “Absolutely not, Gavin. That’s _such_ a bad idea-”

“Invisi-Man. F… Fire… Fireboy.” He could barely hold back his own laughter, but he was having far too much fun. Snickering, Gavin swung to face Fiona, and added, “Floaty-Bloke. Mr. Muscle. Geodude.”

“That was a _Pokémon_ , Gavin.”

“Alright, I’ll think of another for Jack then. I do like Floaty-Bloke, though.”

Fiona rolled her eyes. “I know you like _Floaty-Bloke_. Speaking of...”

Jeremy had moved up close to one of the security cameras, intent on getting Gavin’s attention. _“We’re about to head out,”_ he said. _“They’re tied up and the cops are on their way. We’ll be back soon.”_

“Alright. See you in a bit.” 

Jeremy and Geoff vanished from the camera’s feed, and the other group soon followed. Fiona scooted back from the desk to stand, stretching as she got to her feet. “I’m heading up to meet them. Coming, Gav?”

“Yeah, in a sec. Just gonna shut all this down.”

He waited until he heard the elevator doors shut behind Fiona before he started. Gavin’s fingers whispered over the keys in front of him, and with it, he felt the familiar tickle of electricity hidden deep in the wires under the plastic. It always made him shiver at first, and then in the following moments, it just felt like it was an extension of himself, another limb. The computer responded eagerly, just like anything else that had an electronic heartbeat, and began its shutdown procedure.

Gavin lifted his hands and exhaled a little shakily. It was nerve wracking, even when he knew nobody could possibly have seen him.

The rest of the crew didn’t know, and that was exactly how Gavin wanted it. 

It wasn’t like he could do much on the field anyway, he told himself. So he could mess with technology - that wouldn’t really help anyway. Even Michael and Jack, who also relied on the elements, could summon it; all Jack needed to do was pull from the ground, and Michael could simply create fire whenever he wanted. Gavin needed to _touch_ something that flowed with electricity, and only then would it do his bidding. That didn’t help much when the streets only had cameras and lights.

He was content with his lot. Here, he could help by giving the cameras a little nudge, pushing them just a little harder than the average human. Gavin could coax them to make the images sharper, brighter, clearer for when the police needed proof. Nobody else could do the things he could, not even with the best editing programmes out there - but, of course, that’s what they believed he did. That was fine. That was perfect, actually.

Gavin closed the door to his little office, ready to go back to pretending.

* * *

The crew spilled out from the elevator, eagerly chatting away as they spilled out into the penthouse. Gavin, Fiona, and Alfredo were all waiting in the lounge, sharing drinks and talking, but broke into cheers as the Fakes trooped in. 

“We saw the cops heading for our guys on our way home,” Geoff said. He eagerly reached for the can of diet coke Alfredo offered him, sighing in delight as he cracked it open. “Thanks, ‘Fredo.”

“No problem.” Alfredo cocked his head as they settled in, still in their costumes. “What about the other team?”

“Still trapped,” Michael snickered. 

“They were a little vicious,” Jack explained, settling in next to Geoff on the couch. “Normally I’d cuff ‘em so it’s easier for the police but… nah, they were dicks.”

Fiona frowned. “How are they supposed to get them out?”

Jack shrugged. “They’ve done it before.”

Gavin shared a smile with Jeremy as he came to perch on the arm of his chair. It was a small, private smile, the kind that spoke volumes without them needing to say a word - Gavin was glad Jeremy was safe, and Jeremy was just happy to see him. Gavin offered Jeremy a coke, and Jeremy took it gratefully; he bit back a snicker when he saw the tab press down seemingly on its own. He also caught the grin Jeremy hid behind the rim of the can before he turned his attention back to the conversation.

“Fiona was thinking you should all have names,” Gavin tossed out to the room. A cheeky little grin started worming its way onto his face. “I had some good ideas.”

“No you didn’t,” Fiona groaned.

“I did!”

Michael turned an expectant look on him. “Let’s hear ‘em, Gav.”

“Fireboy,” Gavin said, pointing a finger at Michael, and then, moving to Trevor, he added, “Mr. Muscle. Jack, you were Geodude, but Fiona thinks it’s a bad idea to name you after a Pokémon, so we’ll come back to you. Geoff-”

“Jesus,” Geoff wheezed, shaking his head. “Nice try. I think we can probably come up with ideas for ourselves, thanks.”

“What, you think you can do better than Invisi-Man?”

“Yeah, I do think I can do better than _Invisi-Man_ , Gavin.”

“Right, I look forward to hearing your suggestions then.” Gavin sat back in his chair with a pleased little laugh, delighted to see it mirrored on Geoff’s face. 

Jeremy nudged his shoulder. “What was I?”

“Floaty-Bloke. I struggled a bit with the telekinesis thing.”

“Well, you’re smart,” Trevor said, considering Jeremy. “You could be like… Doctor Strange.”

“Now you’re just running into the Geodude problem,” Jack said.

Laughter bubbled around the room, followed by Trevor trying to reel it back in. “Okay, well… Doctor Floaty-Bloke?”

“I’d rather just drop the title at that point,” Jeremy laughed. “Although, I don’t think that’d strike fear into the hearts of many criminals.”

“Neither does _Fireboy_ ,” Michael snickered.

“I’ll come up with better ones!”

“Sure, you will.” Jeremy clapped a hand on Gavin’s shoulder and hauled himself to his feet. “Come on, I wanna head home and shower. I’m disgusting in this suit.”

With a chorus of goodbyes and waves, Jeremy and Gavin headed back to the elevator. Once the doors slid shut, Gavin slumped back against the wall lazily to wait for it to reach the garage. “I don’t think you’re disgusting in that suit,” he said cheekily.

Jeremy, who had been standing there with his arms folded as he stared at the wall idly, turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “I know you don’t,” he said, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I _have_ been running around in this, though, and I would _really_ like to shower and have dinner. Being a superhero makes you sweaty and hungry.”

“I’ll order dinner.” Gavin tilted his head, his grin widening. “I could join you in the shower, give you a hand with cleaning up.”

“As tempting as that is, you’ll put more time between me and dinner.”

There was a ding. The doors slid open.

“Worth a try,” Gavin chuckled. He stuck his hands in his pockets as they wandered towards Jeremy's car, a sleek, shiny black thing tucked into a corner of the garage. It was a little flashy, sure, but not beyond reason; he had to pretend to be a civilian, after all. “After dinner?”

The lights flashed as Jeremy unlocked his car. “What were you doing in your office to get you so worked up?”

“Watching you.” Gavin dropped himself into the passenger seat with a smug little smile. “You would be too if you saw your hot boyfriend prancing about saving the city and everything.”

“I’d take you up on that bet if you had powers, too,” Jeremy replied. He settled in and clipped his seatbelt into place, and unbeknownst to him, Gavin felt that familiar shiver as the car rumbled to life.

As Jeremy peeled out of the garage, Gavin carefully pressed his palm against the inside of the door. Even through layers, he could still feel the quiet hum as energy flowed beneath. It reached out to him, brushing against him like a cat against its owners knuckles, and then continued on its way, rushing to…

Ah. The radio.

Gavin took his hand back, and reached out to turn up the volume manually instead.

* * *

The Fakes’ relationship with the LSPD was an uneasy one at the best of times. They would be well within their rights to arrest them, really, considering the amount of damage the Fakes did by accident at the best of times; more than one news story floated around in the wild, telling the tale of the holes left in the roads, or the melted streetlamps. They had even tried it once, only to be brought instead into a peaceful discussion with Jack and Geoff, which was how they came to the truce that was honoured now.

Any damage they themselves caused by using their powers was theirs to fix - whether it was by smoothing it out by supernatural means, or by paying for it to be solved through more normal routes. That was easy enough to stick to.

Criminals had to be handed over to the police at the end of it all. Nobody had any problems with that either; nobody was keen on turning the basement into a prison.

The LSPD had tried to bargain for their identities. The Fakes had firmly refused, and the LSPD hadn’t dared to push it. 

For the most part, however, the cops they ran into didn’t mind that. They found the Fakes interesting and funny, and more than once they’d all ended up having a laugh together as they sorted out various reports and paperwork before heading their separate ways. It was a win-win situation: the LSPD put away some tricky bad guys, and the Fakes had a useful way of exercising their powers. There hadn’t even been any whispers of a supervillain just yet, but neither side had any worries about what would happen if one showed up.

That easy peace didn’t extend to the entirety of the LSPD. Of course, there were some who grumbled and complained; there always were about any situation, whether it was about the higher-ups or the lack of coffee in the machine in the mornings.

This was different.

A cop by the name of Ed Stone wasn’t too happy with the arrangement. He found it a little insulting that they relied so heavily on the Fakes, and he’d been furious when they had kept their names a secret. To him, it didn’t feel like a fair balance; the LSPD were out their risking their lives without powers where anyone with a grudge could take them out, while the Fakes got to run around and do what they liked.

It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.

And so he turned to the side he had, at the start of his career, sworn to stop. 

Naturally, the criminals of Los Santos weren’t pleased either. They were at a disadvantage, too. They were being picked off one by one, whether they had the protection of a gang or not, and enough was enough. 

Quietly, secretly, away from the eyes and ears of the Fakes or the LSPD, resources - whether it was smarts or money - had been pooled to find a way to fix this. Nobody cared how; they could create their own super, trap the Fakes, _kill_ the Fakes…

The possibilities were endless. Just one of them had to work.

Just one.

Ed had been the cop to stumble across this some time ago. Rather than turn them in, he offered to be their informant. When they were ready, he said, he’d be able to get the Fakes exactly where they wanted them, and that would be that. The criminal underbelly could surge once again, and Ed could go back to doing his job with people on the streets once again.

* * *

Calls came at the _worst_ times.

There had been a week or so of downtime, which the Fakes used to rest and recover. Some stayed at the penthouse, and others filtered back to their own apartments for some privacy. 

Jeremy and Gavin always opted for the latter option.

They were taking thorough advantage of having their own place. They’d just had dinner and evening was setting in, and Gavin had found himself horizontal on the couch, sprawled across Jeremy as they traded lazy kisses back and forth. Jeremy's hands swept across Gavin’s back, and a delicious tingle not unlike that of electricity raced across Gavin’s skin.

And then Jeremy's phone rang.

His superhero phone.

All of the Fakes had one. It was just a normal looking mobile phone, only Gavin had tweaked them just a little. It was for the LSPD to contact them, mostly, but also so they could reach each other without their earpieces. Helpful, certainly, and Gavin was pleased with himself for thinking of it - it had been hilarious at the time, too; he’d been thoroughly amused by the thought of giving the cops a Bat-Signal of sorts - but now it was just plain annoying.

“Gavin,” Jeremy murmured, trying to separate himself.

“Jeremy,” Gavin huffed, dropping his chin onto Jeremy’s chest. “I was onto something there.”

“So was I,” Jeremy sighed. Reluctantly, Gavin sat back on his heels so Jeremy could reach over for the phone. It had already rung out once, and immediately started up again. 

Gavin frowned at it. “What if they don’t need the full team anyway?”

“Even if they don’t need me, they’ll need you,” Jeremy reminded him. He slid his thumb across the screen to answer, and then tapped it again to put it on speaker. “Hello?”

_“Fakes, this is LSPD.”_

_“Here,”_ Geoff said. He sounded like he was on the move already. _“And that makes five on the call now, all of us are here. What’s the problem?”_

_“It’s bad, real bad. You’ll have to be fast, we need you guys out at a warehouse near the docks, it sounds like it’s getting ugly.”_

_“What’s the address?”_

The cop rattled off the location, and he gave his name as Stone. Just as stony as his cool attitude over the call, Gavin thought, annoyed. It didn’t strike him as odd, not really; plenty of cops were calm whenever they called, so it wasn’t unusual. No alarm bells went off in his head - especially not when he was grumpy about being interrupted.

Jeremy suited up, and together they piled into his flashy car. They were at the penthouse within minutes.

It was chaos. Most of the Fakes were ready, gathered in the garage and waiting to set off, their motorbike engines growling. They each had one; it was the easiest way to get around when they were being their super selves, and they’d all had fun styling them to fit their personas. At the time, Gavin had giggled as Michael had painted flames up the sides of his jet black bike, and he’d been flicked with orange paint for his teasing.

Now, there was none of that. Geoff looked grim from behind his mask.

“Gavin, head on upstairs and get ready,” Geoff said. “I grabbed the mics already, we just need you to set up.”

Gavin jabbed the elevator button impatiently. He heard the roar of Jeremy's bike as he kicked it into action, and then a slight squeal of tyres as they pulled out of the garage, leaving Gavin behind. 

They would be there before he set up at this rate. “Shit,” Gavin hissed, jabbing at the elevator again - and, this time, he gave it a little shock to boost it along. 

His impatience waned slightly when he saw Alfredo inside. He looked a little uneasy. “That was fucking weird,” he said, giving Gavin space to climb in. Gavin felt his eyes watching as he stabbed the button for his office. 

“What’s weird, ‘Fredo?” Gavin asked, distracted. He liked Alfredo, but right now he had other things on his mind - namely, getting to his office and getting on the comms. He risked a little tickle of electricity again, and felt the elevator shudder before speeding up just a tiny bit.

“That,” Alfredo said. Gavin glanced over at him; he was gripping the bar around the elevator with white knuckles. “It did that on the way down, too.”

“Should probably get it checked,” Gavin said absentmindedly, though he knew that it was perfectly healthy. “What were you coming down for anyway?”

Alfredo looked a little sheepish. Before he could answer, the door opened to Gavin’s floor, and the two of them piled out together. Alfredo kept pace with Gavin as he rushed up to his door, fumbling with the keys. “Toss,” he hissed, interrupting Alfred before he could start. “I left my bloody keys at home-”

“Here, I’ve got you.”

“What? You can’t break the door down-”

Gavin’s mouth snapped shut as Alfredo laid his palm against the door, just over the keyhole. There was a pause, and then the telltale sound of the tumblers turning in the lock. 

His door swung open.

Gavin stared. He knew he was wasting precious moments, but he couldn’t help it.

“You have powers, too?”

Alfredo shrugged. “As of about ten minutes ago, yeah.”

“Ten minutes ago?”

“I locked myself out of my car,” he admitted. “I just got here when everyone was rolling out, and then it just… unlocked. I didn’t have time to tell Geoff, not that unlocking is super useful anyway.”

“Well, thank Christ you were here, ‘Fredo.” 

Gavin stumbled into his office, straight to his desk. He didn’t even bother to turn on the lights. He simply laid one hand on the keyboard and the other on the monitor, and sent his will through the wires: _on._

_Turn on._

The screens flickered to life. The keyboard lit up, casting a rainbow glow over Gavin’s features. His CCTV feeds, scattered throughout Los Santos, kicked in, and he quickly sorted through them to focus on the area he wanted. He knew Alfredo had just witnessed his secret, but he didn’t care; Gavin was always on the comms before they were out of the building, so this made him more than a little bit nervous.

This was the one thing his powers could help with: connections. Electricity. 

“Woah,” Alfredo said quietly. “Did you just-”

“Yeah, I did,” Gavin said. His fingers flew across the keys as he searched. Where were they?

“Does Geoff know?”

Gavin paused, uncomfortable. “No,” he admitted. “S’like you said, ‘Fredo: what am I gonna do with this out there?”

“Fair.”

It felt… good to have it off of his chest. Alfredo tucked himself in next to Gavin to look, and Gavin let him. Truth be told, he wanted the help right now. 

“Keep looking,” Gavin said. He thrust out his hand, pressing it against the base of his microphone. He had already used his powers to turn it on before he’d bothered to press the button. “Come in, Fakes. Where are you?”

Silence.

A cold feeling began to creep up Gavin’s spine.

“Fakes, come in. Come _in,_ guys.”

Nothing.

“Gavin…”

Gavin snapped his gaze up to the screen, and his stomach dropped.

The bikes, scattered in the parking lot outside one of the warehouses. They seemed a little scratched, but otherwise fine. Gavin wasn’t worried about theft - the LSPD had their plates, which were registered simply to ‘the Fakes’ - but the fact that their owners weren’t present sent Gavin reeling.

He clutched at the desk as cold fear washed over him. His heart pounded. His muscles felt frozen.

He didn’t know what to do.

They hadn’t counted on all of the Fakes being taken out at once. A couple, maybe, realistically speaking. But everyone…?

This had been a deliberate attack. Gavin was sure of it.

“We’ve gotta get out there,” Alfredo said. “You, me, Fiona. I don’t know where Lindsay is, but we could get them to report it…”

“Yeah.” Gavin swallowed hard. His knees were suddenly weak. He collapsed into his chair, fingers trembling as he brushed them over the keyboard, mostly just for comfort. “I can… I can wind back the CCTV, see what happened, maybe get a vehicle…”

“What if they’re still there?”

But Gavin was already hitting keys with purpose - selecting the specific feed, rewinding, scrubbing through the footage. It couldn’t have been long ago; they’d only just left.

And then there it was.

No shootout. Just an empty parking lot. The Fakes, looking confused as they pulled up; a couple of them tapped their earpieces, but there was obviously no response; Gavin’s stomach twisted with guilt.

He should’ve been faster. If he had, maybe he could have warned them about the people creeping out from a different warehouse.

They raised something - some kind of machine, it looked like - and the Fakes clutched their heads in what could only be pain. They dropped to the gravel, bumping their bikes over by accident. Michael tried to blast fire at the approaching group, but it petered out to a weak spurt as his palm hit the ground instead to gently simmer some pebbles. 

One by one, they were tied up, earpieces were removed, and they were loaded into the back of a van.

And then they were gone.

It had been so quick. Gavin didn’t know how they’d had the time to do it.

He moved on autopilot. He followed the car along its route as it filtered back into regular traffic. It began heading north, and eventually left Los Santos, where Gavin’s reach ended. The last sight he had was of the van continuing along the highway, up into Blaine County. 

There were some cameras up there, Gavin knew, but the connection was so weak that it wasn’t worth trying.

“Not worth calling the cops,” Gavin said, grim. “One of them sold us out.”

* * *

Jeremy woke slowly, his head still ringing. He tried to open his eyes, but found only blackness. He frowned, blinking, and then realised that he was wearing a blindfold. 

So, then. It was time to focus on what he could feel past the pounding in his skull.

Cold, hard floor underneath him. His shoulders, straining a little from how tightly his hands were bound behind his back. On either side of him, there were quiet groans and gentle wiggles as the other Fakes woke up, or already tried to escape their bonds. It sounded like there wasn’t much success.

“Where are we?” he asked, his voice quiet. “What’s happening?”

“Jeremy, thank fuck you’re awake.” Trevor. “Oh, I didn’t realise they’d blindfolded you.”

Jeremy tilted his head towards his voice, brows furrowed. “You’re not?”

“No. I guess they figured you might be able to lift stuff if you can see it.”

“Ah.” Jeremy bowed his head. They were right, of course. While some of them - Jack and Michael, mostly - needed their hands to guide their powers, he and Geoff simply had to think or see. “How have they got you trapped, though?”

“Gurney,” Michael grunted. He was squirming, trying hard to free his hands, presumably. “He’s strapped down, not just tied up.”

“Can’t get enough leverage,” Trevor sighed. “Besides, with that fucking ringing still going, I can’t get the strength up.”

So that wasn’t just in his head. Jeremy swung his head this way and that, trying to source it. “It’s in here?”

“Yup,” Jack said on his left. “Trevor was our only shot, so I’m guessing it was to keep him down, but it’s working on us anyway.”

Geoff moaned as he stirred. It sounded a little more dramatic than was strictly necessary, Jeremy thought. “What do they want?” he complained. “Holy dicks, my head hurts.”

Jeremy heard a door creak, and he snapped his head towards it. Big mistake. If he hadn’t already been sitting, he knew he would have been swaying on his feet from the sharp movement. He imagined that this was what hangovers felt like.

“Ah, you’re awake!” a voice crowed. “Just in time, too.” 

Jeremy wished he could see. It was torture not knowing what had cowed the others into silence.

“Gentlemen, it’s time to get rid of those pesky powers of yours.”

* * *

Lindsay waited outside the penthouse for them. A bird perched on their finger, cooing to them earnestly, while they chatted right back to it, just like it understood every word they were saying.

Which, in fact, they did.

Lindsay, like Gavin - and now Alfredo - had a power that didn’t exactly help much in the thick of battle: they could communicate with animals. They spoke English, they chattered back to them; they understood one another perfectly. Gavin had witnessed them chatting to their cat once or twice while Michael just watched, bemused. Apparently, their cat was absolutely hilarious, and he loved when Gavin scratched him just right under his chin.

The bird took off, fluttering its wings as it pointed itself directly north, up towards Blaine County. “She’s gonna grab some friends and take a look,” Lindsay explained. Even they looked serious now, their brows furrowed with worry. “I’ll call if you guys hear anything.”

“Thanks,” Gavin said. He bounced on his feet nervously as Alfredo pulled a car out of the garage; they had gone for seats over speed, just to make sure they had enough room to bring everyone back. As much as Gavin wanted to go fast, they didn’t know where to go yet anyway. “I’ve got my laptop, we’re gonna see what we can find up there, too.”

Lindsay nodded once. “I’ll see if I can ask around some more. Maybe something else saw the van.”

“Maybe,” Gavin agreed. 

He climbed into the passenger seat, gave Lindsay a wave, and then Alfredo tore off down the street, taking the most direct route he could. Gavin slouched down in his seat and opened up his laptop.

It was slow going. The connection was a little weaker out here, but Gavin could still work some magic, especially with a little zap from his fingertips. It made a little snapping sound, and he felt Alfredo’s nervous glance over each time. Gavin didn’t quite have it in him to be bothered about that right now.

As they left Los Santos, the hills rose and fell around them; in the distance, Gavin could see the hulking mountains, and he felt even smaller than he already did. The only solace was the view of the ocean to their right, across the highway, where it crashed against the meagre shores that spanned the northern edge of the island. Random houses came and went along the roadsides, and a town swept past on their left. All seemed oddly still in comparison to the hustle and bustle of Los Santos.

The connection to anything out here was spotty at best. Gavin had found a few CCTV cameras, but they were either dusty from lack of care or didn’t work at all. 

He realised now too just how much he could feel the thrum of electricity. He could sense it in his laptop, Alfredo’s car, their phones… and then a vast openness that only held a few dots of light, like stars in the night sky.

It was strange, Gavin thought. In the city, he’d never noticed that before, given that he was always surrounded.

Something vibrated in his chest. It wasn’t nerves, though he certainly had plenty of those to go around. It was something different; something as alive and unpredictable as lightning flashes in storm clouds.

Gavin frowned to himself as he felt it tingle at his fingertips.

His phone rang, and his thoughts shattered.

“Lindsay?”

 _“The airfield,”_ Lindsay said. There was no time for a greeting. _“It’s the empty hangar, the van’s outside.”_

The wheels squeaked as Alfredo made a quick turn. Gavin grabbed his laptop to stop it from sliding.

“Bollocks,” Gavin hissed, desperately trying to keep his seat as Alfredo, now with purpose, zoomed back down the road. “Did they say anything else?”

 _“It’s just that one van,”_ Lindsay reported, _“so it doesn’t sound like there’s backup, at least. You want me to call the LSPD now?”_

“Yeah, why not. We'll probably need the back-up now.” Gavin grimaced; he didn't like it, but it was worth the risk in the end. “They won’t get here in time. I’m going in.”

A pause. _“Did you take weapons?”_

“No need.” The shiver in his chest made sense now, shaping out into a buzz that flowed through his nerves. Was this how Michael and Jack felt every day with their elements? Did Michael feel the slow burn of molten lava in his veins? Did Jack carry a steady, firm weight in his chest, like he was as immovable as the mountains out here with them?

It was terrifying.

It was thrilling.

Alfredo shot him a sidelong glance. “What do you mean?”

Gavin closed the lid on his laptop and grinned. “Think I am the weapon, ‘Fredo. Fancy checking if the door’s unlocked for me?”

* * *

Jeremy heard it first. 

His head was bowed as the leader blathered on. Of course, he had to make a speech to go with his role; who wouldn’t when they found themself suddenly acting as the villain? Jeremy tuned it out, deciding instead to try and pick up something, anything, that could help. He couldn’t even snap his own bonds, though, even though they were one of the only things in this room he was sure about. He could, however, just about wiggle them, and he tried now without giving too much away, frowning hard-

There was a crackle. 

It was muted, muffled - it was behind a door, Jeremy decided, probably the one the leader had entered through. Clearly, it was something unexpected, as the bad guy fell silent at the second, louder snap. 

Jeremy took the opportunity and _pushed_.

The blindfold inched up, bunching at his nose before it passed over his eyes. Behind him, the rope around his wrists loosened just a little bit. He released the strain when the blindfold was held at his forehead, trying desperately to take steady breaths, though the effort of it made it difficult to stay subtle; he’d pushed himself to the limit of his abilities, and perhaps a little bit past that.

Jack was staring at him, an eyebrow raised. Jeremy gave him a little grin.

Jeremy quickly glanced around the room, ignoring the sting of the light to take in his surroundings: bare walls, bare floor, Trevor strapped to the table, fluorescent bulbs overhead, and one set of double doors. A warehouse, he figured, or something similar. The leader, standing near Trevor's head with an unopened box by his feet, while henchman lazily stood around the place, looking like they were ready to yawn.

And then the doors blew off their hinges.

The bulbs popped and went dark.

The leader shrieked. The henchmen fumbled their rifles.

Somehow, though, despite the lack of windows and lights, they could still see. A glow emanated from the doorway, dancing and shivering like bolts of bare electricity. The figure within was more of a silhouette than a human, but Jeremy knew exactly who it was.

“Holy shit,” Michael breathed.

Gavin stepped forwards, sparks arcing off of his fingertips to sizzle against the metal doors on the ground. His hair, already so ruffled, seemed to stand on end thanks to the electricity fizzing through it, but he was smiling, delighted, even _laughing_. His eyes met Jeremy's, and he winked.

“Didn’t know I could do this,” he said. “So this is what you lot do all day?”

“Get him!” the leader screamed. He’d scrambled back, tripping over his box of tools, and now cowered behind it.

But his henchmen didn’t even attempt to raise their guns. They stepped back, trembling, as Gavin advanced into the room, seeming to fill it with a buzz. He was both so beautiful and so dangerous, and Jeremy was simply in awe. 

Gavin nodded towards Trevor, where he was still bound to the table. “Let him up.”

“Don’t you dare!” the leader hissed. 

Gavin rolled his eyes. They were such a vibrant green. “Right, the LSPD is on the way, so if you want even a chance of getting away, I’d let him up, if I were you.”

One of the henchmen broke. He rushed forwards, clumsily untying Trevor's ropes. Trevor sat up with a grunt, rubbing his wrists. “Thanks, Gav.”

Gavin flashed him a grin. “D’you mind getting the others?”

“Sure.” Trevor seemed more amused than anything else, and he hopped down to the floor to leave Gavin to it. He crouched down next to the rest of the Fakes to get started, though he made a surprised little noise when Jeremy's bonds came away so easily. “Did you do work on this?”

“A little,” he admitted. As soon as he was able, he stood up, shook off the soreness in his limbs, and reached up to remove the blindfold properly at last. “Alright, you’re gonna want to listen to our friend there,” he called, nodding towards Gavin. “If you don’t wanna get a little shock, that is.”

“I also lied about the LSPD,” Gavin said, as casual as anything. “They’re already here.”

One by one, the Fakes, freed once more, got to their feet. Jeremy could feel Michael heating up even from further down the line, but he knew he wouldn’t just lash out, not with the cops here - though Jeremy couldn’t hear them. Was Gavin just bluffing?

It didn’t matter. The second Jack could, he pulled himself up from his crouch, sweeping his hands from floor to ceiling, and the ground beneath their feet shifted. The criminals were quickly enveloped up to their shoulders, and they simply squirmed and snarled, displeased with the turn of events. Michael stalked up to them, hands ablaze, to keep them in line, and Geoff just blinked out; Jeremy imagined he was attempting to slip out to lead the police to the right spot.

It was all in a fraction of a second. Jeremy didn’t even have to move - and he didn’t until he saw the mistake.

The leader had stepped quickly to the right, nimbly scooping up a gun on the way. Jeremy saw him turn, furious, and aim the muzzle towards Gavin.

Gavin, who sparked with pure energy, but could not stand up against a bullet.

Jeremy focused on the table, aiming to sweep it under the leader’s feet, but he was too slow.

Trevor was not.

He pushed off from the ground hard, throwing himself into the path of the gun. There was a sharp bang, Jeremy's ears rang, and Trevor grunted as he fell to the floor with a solid thump. 

Michael was on the leader within seconds, forcing the gun from his hand with a fist of fire, while the other hovered at his chest, forcing him to stay flat from the intense heat alone. Stone flowed over wrists and ankles to keep him pinned.

Trevor sat up, wincing and clutching his shoulder. “I’m okay!” he called. “Ow.”

“Bloody hell, Trevor,” Gavin muttered. The fury of his electricity faded, receding with a final few snaps and pops. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” 

Gavin offered him a hand to haul him up again, though he quickly turned away with a gag. “Oh, Christ, let me turn away first, Trevor. I can’t look.”

“It’s already healing!”

“That’s the _problem!_ It's bloody disgusting!”

Footsteps echoed further down the hallway, and soon Jeremy saw the familiar black uniform of the LSPD. Gavin stepped aside to let them in, and Jeremy found himself next to him as the cops filtered through. They already knew the drill; their handcuffs were out and ready to grab bad guys as Jack released them, and Geoff stood with the sergeant to fill him in on what had happened. Trevor, still wincing, joined him, since he was no use with an injured shoulder; it would be a few hours before it was fully healed.

“So,” Jeremy said, bumping his shoulder against Gavin’s, “electricity, huh? When did that happen?”

It was hard to tell in the dimness, but Jeremy was pretty sure he saw Gavin flush. “A while ago,” he admitted. Then, quickly, he added, “But not to that scale! That was new. I… think it came about because I knew you lot were in trouble.”

“What was it before then?”

“Just…” Gavin looked down at his palms. He wiggled his fingers. “I could make technology do things. It relied on electricity even then, but… didn’t know I could do something like that.” He paused, his gaze distant, only to refocus a second later. “Hold on, J, I need to tell that cop something.”

Jeremy followed anyway as he headed over to interrupt Geoff’s conversation. “Sorry,” he said, casting Geoff an apologetic look, “but is there an ‘Ed Stone’ here?”

“No,” the sergeant said, frowning. “He’s back at the station.”

“Grab him,” Gavin said simply. “He called us here. It was a trap. If he thinks it’s gone wrong, I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to make a run for it.” 

The sergeant seemed uncertain, but the Fakes had never led the LSPD wrong before, so he slowly nodded. “I’ll send word back,” he said slowly. “Do you-”

“He used the Fakes’ phone.” Gavin nodded once, firmly. Despite the serious nature of the conversation, Jeremy saw a spark in Gavin’s eyes, and knew the wheels were turning in his head; the alliteration of ‘Fakes’ phone’ had not gone unnoticed, and Jeremy wouldn’t be surprised if Gavin had named it by the time they got home. “You’ll be able to check it was used, won’t you? And you’ll know there was no reason to call us out at that time.”

There was no way around it. The sergeant sighed, and turned away slightly as he grasped at the walkie-talkie on his shoulder.

Geoff grinned at Gavin. “You’re just full of miracles today, huh?”

“Nah.” Gavin waved it off with his own lazy smile. “Some of us just actually remember the details on phone calls.”

* * *

“Hang on - ‘Fredo has powers too?”

Gavin smiled sheepishly at Jeremy. “Yeah, but it’s just unlocking doors.”

Jeremy slumped back into the pillows with a sigh. “Could still be useful, though.”

They were at home, tucked into bed in their dimly lit bedroom after a thorough debriefing at the penthouse. Geoff had been informed that the cop had been captured, and he'd made the LSPD promise that they'd keep a closer eye on the phone from now on. Truth be told, Gavin wasn't sure why they'd just let anyone have access in the first place, though he supposed that nobody had been able to see this kind of situation happening. He could only hope that nobody would try to find the box the villain had been forced to leave - which, just to make things comfortable, was now stored in the Fakes' HQ - and, ideally, nobody would figure out that there was, apparently, potentially a way to get rid of super powers. They didn't need that kind of threat hanging over them.

It was a relief to be back safe, though, Gavin thought; he could still feel his new strength buzzing under his skin, but muted now, quieter. He still needed to talk to Jack and Michael about their own experiences with the elements, but that could wait until later. Now, after the dust had settled, both he and Jeremy craved the reassurance that the other was safe.

The pillowcase rustled as Jeremy turned to face him. “You could definitely be useful.”

Gavin groaned. “Jeremy, I don’t wanna go out in the field. I’m no use.”

“You’re plenty of use!” Jeremy nudged his shoulder fondly. “You rescued us!”

“Yeah, but I didn’t do much. Just scared the piss out of them, really.”

They laughed together, soft and warm. “It was impressive,” Jeremy admitted. He reached around Gavin, tugging him into his side; Gavin gladly snuggled into his shoulder with a hum. “Hot, too.”

“Jeremy.” Gavin snickered his name, pushing at him in a playfully scolding way. “I didn’t even know what I was doing. I didn’t know I could do that much. I was just sort of going with it, really.” He held out a hand, wiggling his fingers again much like he had back in the hangar. “I don’t even know what to do with it, or how to control it.”

Jeremy’s hand came up to join his. Their fingers intertwined, Jeremy's fitting perfectly in the gaps between Gavin’s. “There’s time to figure it out,” he assured him. “And if you ever do feel like coming out into the field, you know there’s a spot for you.”

It was, admittedly, a little bit tempting. Gavin could see the appeal.

“But who’ll look after the CCTV if I’m out there?”

“Alfredo,” Jeremy said. “Fiona, Lindsay… anyone who we don’t already have outside?”

“It’s not like I could keep Alfredo out of there now anyway. How quickly do you think he’s gonna be an arse about locks?”

“Oh, immediately.”

Another ripple of laughter bubbled up between them. They shared a quick kiss goodnight, and then Gavin reached over to the bedside table, where the single lamp was lit. Casually now, he touched the side, sent a spark along the wires, and the room fell dark.


End file.
